


Love Language

by TheMadam



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is stupid with his feelings, Alcohol, But I guess you can read it, Carnival, Carnival Games, Dates, Dating, F/M, Fair Games, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Gift, Gift Giving, I Wrote This For Me, Kissing, Love, Love Language, Moira gonna school him on love, Welcome, alcohol mention, once again, relationships, self indulgent hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24585301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMadam/pseuds/TheMadam
Summary: Alastor is desperate to figure out Moira's love language, but he hardly understands what that means. Perhaps it's more for himself than he thought.
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Original Character(s), Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chugga choo choo, bitches. I'm in the Moira x Alastor zone asf. I hardly ever flesh out anything with my girl so I wanted to write her more and here tf we are. This is obvi not explicit, just fluffy goodness and literally for myself LOL. Also this is long as hell. Was not my intention but whoops, my hand slipped.

When Alastor first realized he liked Moira, the concept confused him. It had been Charlie who pointed out that he may be experiencing feelings toward her. It shook him for a long while. He had to sit with the idea that perhaps he _does_ love her. Or, at the very least, is fond of her presence around him. 

Now that he is sure of his feelings themselves, he finds himself unsure how to behave. Relationships of a romantic nature have never been his forte. When he thinks of Moira, many things come to mind and he often struggles to express himself in a way he deems appropriate for such a gal. Keeping it mostly to himself, he simply sought her company more explicitly. Often wandering to the main lobby when he had the free time in the hopes of seeing her chatting at the bar. If she is not there, he will scour the library, a safe haven for the both of them. Still, it didn’t feel like he was doing enough for her. Enough to show her he cares for her.

The first gift he decides on giving her in an attempt to court her, is a bag of the finest, handcrafted chocolates Hell has to offer. He is not a fan of sweets himself, but he knew after some conversations she enjoys them. 

Making his way back to the hotel, treats in hand, he is delighted to find her chatting up Husk at the bar. That aspect of her personality is what drew him to her first. The fact she could get the grumpiest old man Alastor had ever met to laugh and carry a conversation was new. Even he had a hard time getting him to crack. But when Moira walked into the room, Husk sat up a little straighter, his tail swished in interest, and he had begun greeting her regularly, even if it didn’t always lead to a conversation. 

Striding toward Moira at her place on the bar stool, he stops just next to her. She turns her attention to him, a warm smile gracing her features. Oh how loved when her smile is directed toward him.

“Good afternoon, Alastor.” She greets softly, a gentle tilt of her head for emphasis. “Busy day today? I haven’t seen you around yet. The place feels quiet without your static hum.” 

Alastor smiles wide in return, feeling a bit of apprehension about the gift in his hands behind his back. Still, he returns the pleasantries.

“My apologies, dear Moira. I will be around more after finishing up some paperwork. I took a small field trip into town. Which brings me to…” He trails off, bringing the bag of treats from behind him to hold out for her. She looks at the bag curiously, her eyes widen in question at it. The bright pink cellophane hides the contents inside from her vision, but the famous black ribbon and matching tag does let her know where it’s from. Holding her hands out, Alastor drops the item gently into her palms.

“For me?” She inquires sweetly, the smile on her face growing just a fraction wider. 

“For you, Dear.” Alastor replies with a slight bow. He rights himself and readjusts his coat, feeling a bit satisfied for now. “I’ll be back later, please enjoy this gift from me to you.” He calls over his shoulder with a wave. Moira looks mildly dumbfounded, but excited. She waves in return, settling herself back into the conversation she’d been having with Husk prior. Alastor can hear Husk ask about the bag from down the hall.

Later in the evening, he catches her popping a treat into her mouth while she draws by the fire. It felt right, but it wasn’t enough. No, perhaps something more traditionally romantic will be in order.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Round two, y'all

The second time around, when the urge to give her a gift struck, he chose a different route. Looking over the menu, the scent of the assortments of flowers attack his nose. Of course, Hell does not have very many options to choose from, not much grows in such soil, but this is the finest shop around. It is packed with every variety to be found which is why he chose it. Still, the traditional rose can be found amongst the land. Some exist as a less common version and the red roses are far deeper in colour than that of the living world. He debated over a bouquet for a long while before scrapping it and choosing something of his own accord. 

Purchasing the flowers in question, he marches back to the hotel again with purpose. This time when he enters the lobby, Moira is nowhere to be found. Husk is passed out behind the bar, his soft snores the only sound heard from anywhere in the vicinity. For a moment anyway. A soft clack comes from the kitchen that his sensitive ears manage to pick up. Weaving through the room, he stops in the doorway to watch. 

Moira stands at the counter, cutting up some vegetables for whatever dish she is making. She hums softly to herself while she cooks. Her hair is pulled out of her face as much as possible, a few strands have fallen from their chamber to frame her face delicately. He focuses on those for a long while before clearing his throat. The sound forces Moira to whip her head in its direction. She locks onto Alastor and pauses her actions. Wiping her hands on her apron, she crosses the kitchen, stopping just shy of his personal space. 

“Pardon the interruption, Dear.” He says earnestly. She smiles and distractedly wipes her hands on her apron again. 

“Hardly started, but your interruption is always welcome regardless. How may I help you, Alastor? I was going to make some soup, it’s supposed to be chilly tonight. Would you like me to bring you some?” 

Alastor smiles his toothy grin before nodding in agreement.

“That would be lovely. Your cooking has far more flavor than anyone else’s within the hotel.” He chuckles, mostly to himself in remembrance of the last time Charlie tried making dinner. It had been the saddest chicken he’s ever had. Angel Dust had ordered a pizza to his room and Vaggie choked it down in show of support.

“But first,” He interjects, bringing the flowers around from behind his back to present to her. “These are for you.” 

Moira looks taken aback. Within his hands are two, deep red roses wrapped at the bottom in white cellophane. The best shop in town, even for such a simple “bouquet” he had spent a pretty penny at least. 

“They’re beautiful, Alastor.” She takes the gift into her hands and appraises them. Bringing them to her nose, Alastor savors the way her eyes close when she takes in their scent. Then, without warning, her eyes cut up to his.

“Two?” She asks quietly.

“Of course, Darling. One is quite the lonely number, but three is a crowd, no?” 

Taking a hand from around the roses, he brings it up to his mouth to gently kiss her knuckles. A soft blush graces her features at it all. Her heart beats just that much faster, something Alastor focuses on because he can feel her pulse through her fingertips.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me, Old Man.” She teases sweetly. Alastor releases her hand to slip his own to its usual resting place behind his back.

“What if I am?” He inquires quietly, a bit of nervousness twisting in his gut. If his enemies were in tune with his body, they’d certainly mock him. Feeling shy over a woman? How childish.

“Then I’d say, I like it.” She assures him.

The two of them stand in silence for a moment, their eyes locked on one another. Moira makes the first move, shuffling closer to close the distance and placing a kiss with the corner of her mouth to his cheek. She’s always so mindful of his personal space, but he doesn’t mind the brief moments of intrusion. 

“I believe I have an empty vase in my room, I’m going to drop these off. Thank you, Alastor. Dinner will be ready in a few hours. I’ll bring you a bowl.” She murmurs in his ear before slipping around him and making her way down the hall. He watches her frame as it disappears into the darkness, his heart a bit aflutter at the success of it all. Even still, he fought with himself as he made his way to his room. Once again, it still didn’t feel like enough. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for in terms of a reaction, but that wasn’t quite it.


	3. Chapter 3

While talking with Rosie, he lets slip his desire to treat Moira to lavish gifts. She eventually coaxes out of him his desire for a reaction, but he doesn’t know what it is he’s looking for. She hums thoughtfully for a long moment.

“If you know her measurements, perhaps I can make her a dress. Then you can take her out on a date?” She offers politely. Alastor stews on it for a moment before writing down her measurements for Rosie. Rosie laughs as she takes the paper.

“You sly dog, you!” She teases. Alastor feels defensiveness rise in his gut. Shaking his head and waving his hands, a plethora of ‘no’s fall from his lips.

“Nothing of the sort, my friend. I merely overheard a conversation with her and Angel on the matter.” He mutters hurriedly. Rosie laughs harder at his newfound flusteredness, a behavior even she has never been privy to.

“But you remembered.”

A blush burns his cheeks at the call out.

“She looks lovely in deep purples.”

Rosie nods before the two of them part ways, soft giggles pouring from her lips all the while.

~ ~ ~

A few weeks later, Alastor picks up the dress in question. A beautiful handmade garment nestled softly in the tissue of the box it will be wrapped in. He thanks Rosie for her efforts and tips her accordingly. Hoping beyond hope the dress will fit.

Outside of Moira’s room, he places the box, now resting in a bag, on the door handle. She had been locked in her room for the majority of the day and whatever she was up to in there, he did not wish to disturb. However, he made sure his shadow stayed guard to gauge her reaction whenever she eventually finds it.

Just before he drifts off to sleep, his shadow mutters in his ear a lavish description of her smile when she retrieved the gift. He was willing to share how the dress looked on her when she tried it on, but he waved it off. How dare his shadow be so impolite as to watch a lady while she’s dressing. It merely snickers before slinking off and taking its secrets with it.

~ ~ ~

The next morning, Alastor should’ve known better that Moira would not trot around in such a fine garment for a day. Yet he still felt a bit bothered when he saw her at the table, enjoying her breakfast in her regular attire. She chats idly with Angel before she notices Alastor’s presence. Pushing herself from her spot, she swiftly makes her way to him. He smiles down at her approvingly.

“I have no idea where I’ll wear such a lovely gift, Alastor. Still, I absolutely adore that dress. I’ve never owned something so beautiful.” She praises and thanks him quietly. He shakes his head at the notion.

“A lady as fine as yourself should have at least one garment of such a calibur. But, I do have an idea as to where you might wear it.” 

His words bring a tilt of her head to encourage him to continue.

“Perhaps dinner with me this evening?” His words are crystal clear when he speaks with her. Very rarely, if only out of nervousness, do they muffle with static when in her presence. She kisses his cheek like she had a few weeks ago when he presented her with the roses before pulling away.

“That sounds lovely. It’s a date, Old Man.” Flashing him a wink and a smile, she turns on her heel to finish her meal. “There’s breakfast in the kitchen, it should still be warm should you desire any.”

Alastor’s smile reaches his eyes while he makes his way to the kitchen. He’ll have to finish his breakfast quickly so he can find another gift for her. Something to present over dinner that shows his seriousness, but isn’t too far of a leap that might make her uncomfortable. He knows previous partners have showered her in lavish gifts before, but it feels like she’s being far more receptive of him than those previous.

A few hours to spare before dinner has Alastor walking through the town plaza again. He looks through every window of every shop in the hopes of finding something fitting. While on his journey, a piece of jewelry catches his eyes. He’s scoured through all the shops, but had yet to find anything that stood out to him. So it is only fitting that the jewelry that catches his eye is already being worn. A lovely piece, a choker of diamonds with a singular strand hanging loosely from it. From that strand is another laying down the wearer’s chest. How lovely, something of that sort would suit Moira very nicely. Making his way to the two ladies who are conversing over a cup of coffee, he flashes them his signature smile.

“Good afternoon, you two! My sincerest apologies for the intrusion.” He announces smoothly. The two women in question come to a startling halt. Their eyes widen in fear at being addressed by The Radio Demon. The friend of the woman whose jewelry had taken his interest speaks up first.

“Ah, uh… H-how may we help you?” She stutters nervously. Alastor regards her fleetingly, turning his attention toward the one he actually wished to speak to.

“That is an absolutely lovely piece of jewelry and I must inquire where you purchased such an item?” Gesturing toward her necklace, Alastor cocks his head at her. She brings her hand to her throat before fumbling around to undo the clasp. Holding it out to him, her hands shake.

“I-it was a custom piece, one of a kind. Here take it, just please don’t hurt us.” 

Peering at the necklace in her hand, Alastor cuts his eyes to her then back in contemplation. 

“Hmm,” He hums softly. “Not quite what I was getting at, but I suppose I’ll take it. These are real diamonds and silver, yes?” 

The woman nods hurriedly and Alastor allows her to drop the necklace into his hand. Turning on his heel, he pauses for a moment.

“You should know, I don’t desire to harm women unless given a reason. And that has to be a _very good_ reason.” He calls over his shoulder. With a wave of his hand he takes his leave to purchase an appropriate case for the item. Normally he wouldn’t like to regift such a thing, especially since he seemed to snatch it directly off of an individual. But the piece was perfect for his darling and the woman had handed it over freely. It is something unique that only three other people would really know where it came from. And odds are they’ll never meet again anyway. 

~ ~ ~

Getting ready for the date in question, Alastor looks to the jewelry box on his dresser. He pops it open to fiddle with its placement within its new confines. It has to look perfect when he presents it to her, of course. Slipping it into his pocket, he makes his way down to the lobby so he may arrive at 7pm sharp. To his surprise, Moira is already perched on the lobby couch, dressed and ready to go before him.

She slowly stands from where she had been to show off her new dress. It fits her like a glove, showing off her curves in all the right ways and making the flecks of yellow in her lilac eyes pop. All flowing lace and silk trailing behind her as she struts over to him. Stopping before him, she gives a twirl and smiles.

“What do you think?” She asks cheekily, knowing full well he is enamored by her. His jaw had slackened slightly the moment she stood, but she wasn’t going to call him out in front of the others. That is to say, she wasn’t going to stop anyone if they did. 

“You look…” He hesitates before clearing his throat to regain his bearings. “You look breathtaking, my dear Moira.” 

Offering his arm, she takes it smoothly. The two of them head off to their destination, driven by Charlie the whole way. The princess in question feels torn about the clear romance budding between Alastor and Moira, but she keeps it to herself. Vaggie will be her soundboard after she returns to the hotel.

Arriving at one of the tallest buildings in the city, Moira gaped at Alastor. It was home to the most expensive restaurant Hell has to offer and was about 60 stories high. She’d never had the money to go and it was not what she expected for their dinner date. But he had left enough clues, especially with the dress, that he intended on treating her to the finer things in life.

“Alastor? Are you sure? This is… quite the restaurant!” She squawks, feeling a bit out of place about where they were going to be. Alastor brings his hand reassuringly to the small of her back and guides her into the building.

“Wacky nonsense, Dear! Where else would I take you? A dive bar?” He laughs heartily. “I’m not uncouth like Angel. At least, not for a proper date when you’re looking so lovely.”

Moira brushes off his comment about the dive bar. She’d make sure he ate his words at some point in regards to it. A game of pool oughta change his mind on the matter about how fun they can be for dates. 

Once inside the elevator, Moira takes in the view. The entirety of it is glass with the exception of the floor. She leans on his arm as they ascend, feeling her knees weaken while the city gets further away from her feet. The host greets them immediately upon stepping out of the elevator and takes them to a seat in the corner. The best view in the house or so he says. Any view near a window when you’re so high up is still breathtaking. 

The two of them chat over appetizers. Alastor partakes in a few alcoholic beverages alongside Moira. Winks and flirty smiles are shared the more they find themselves inebriated. Leaning her elbows on the table, Moira giggles over having some alone time with him. Not that they never get the opportunity, but the new setting really forces them to get to know one another. And she’s loving every second of it.

“Before our meal arrives, I actually have one more thing I wish to give to you, Dear. I acquired it through some rather humorous means, but it was too perfect for you.”

Moira sits up a little straighter and takes a sip of her wine.

“Alastor, you’ve already spoiled me so much. Haven’t I made it apparent you have my affection as it is?” She smiles at him shyly, averting her gaze out to the window. Alastor reaches into his pocket to pull out the necklace. The movement from her peripheral catches her attention and she looks over at him again. Holding the box out to her, he smiles nervously. She takes it hesitantly, turning her head slightly away but keeping her eyes trained on the box now in her hands. Popping it open, she gasps.

Under the lights above their table, the necklace glitters enticingly. She runs her hands gently over the main part of the necklace, doing a swift count of the top row and multiplying it by four. When she pulls it the rest of the way out to look at it in its entirety, she lets out a quiet ‘oh’.

Casting the box to the side, Alastor pipes up. He was admiring her reaction to the piece, but he wanted to hear approval verbally.

“Is it to your liking, Dear? I looked everywhere for something that felt appropriate. I realize it is far more flashy than your usual pieces, but I decided you had to have it.” 

Moira looks at him with a stunned expression. Her mouth hung slightly open and her brows were furrowed in slight apprehension.

“It’s beautiful, but it must have cost a fortune. Between the dress and dinner, I don’t know if I can accept this, Alastor.” Her hand covers her mouth when she looks at the necklace again.

With a shake of his head, Alastor pushes himself from his chair to make his way over to her. Taking the necklace from her hands, he tuts.

“Nonsense, Darling. Here…” Undoing the clasp, he stands behind her. “Allow me, please.”

Pulling her hair away, she lets Alastor clasp the piece around her neck. The cool metal sends a shiver up her spine as it rests against her skin. But her heart races when his hands brush the sensitive skin as he pulls away. Turning to the large window, she gawks at it once more in the reflection of the glass.

“It’s so beautiful… I, you said you acquired this through humorous means? Do tell!” She giggles while turning her attention to his now seated self. Their dinner arrives and she cuts into it while Alastor regales his story between bites.

“Well, as I said, I had been looking everywhere for something perfect for you. Something that… let you know how I feel. But alas, none of the local jewelers had anything that struck my fancy.” He recalls, taking a sip of his cognac. 

“So imagine my surprise when I see two ladies chatting over coffee. One of them had this beautiful piece of jewelry that caught my eye in a way nothing else had.”

Moira’s hands shoot to her mouth to cover her smile as she realizes where this is going.

“In her fear over my status she merely handed it over. I’m sorry to give you something used, but she did tell it is a custom piece. One of a kind, all diamonds and silver. It looks far more lovely on you anyway.” He finishes with a chuckle. A snort escapes her as the words register. The snort turns into genuine laughter, aided by the alcohol in tickling her just so.

“You stole it!” She laughs heartily.

“I did no such thing! She handed it over! Willingly, I swear, my dear!” He laughs, only mildly defensive at her accusation. Unable to contain herself, the fit of giggles wracks her body.

“You stole it, oh my lord.” She says between giggles as her laughter slowly dies down. “I wouldn’t want it any other way. I love it. I love the story behind it. I adore this.” 

Placing her hand to the piece, she smiles at him.

“Thank you, Alastor. I am having a wonderful time.” 

The affirmation is like music to his ears. He smiles wide at her in return.

“I’m so glad, Dear.”

The two of them finish up dinner rather quietly. Soft smiles shared and quiet banter now that the initial hilarity is over. Heading out of the restaurant and feeling like she has her bearings with her feet planted firmly to the ground, Moira leads Alastor in a walk through the city.

“So, not to imply I was distracted from dinner…” She trails off shyly as they get closer to where she wanted to take him. Alastor places a hand to the small of her waist to stop them for a moment.

“Nonsense, you were very attentive. What is it, Dear?” His ears pick up some sounds in the near distance and they flicker accordingly.

“Well, through the window I saw a fair. Looked like fun, do you mind if we pop in? I don’t want to go on any rides, but I love the games. Even if they’re rigged.” She chuckles.

Now that she has mentioned her intentions, Alastor hones in on the sounds in the distance. He can decipher they’re fairly close to the aforementioned fair. With a nod he kisses her forehead before taking her hand.

“We’re a little over dressed for such a thing, but I don’t mind stopping by before heading back.” He tells her softly. Tugging on his hand, she giggles excitedly at him.

“ _Wacky_ nonsense, Old Man! We are simply going to be the best dressed there!”

Leading the way, she weaves them through the rest of the city until the fair comes into view. Paying for entry, the two of them wander into the grounds. Lots of demons shouting and laughing fill Alastor’s sensitive ears. It’s not really the kind of place he’d normally seek out, but the excitement Moira showed when mentioning it was enough to coax him to it. 

They don’t get very far into the plethora of games before Moira stops dead in her tracks. Her eyes light up in the way Alastor realizes he’s been seeking all this time. His heart beats faster at the sight. Following her gaze, he settles on a ridiculous prize hanging in a booth. Literally. It has a noose around its neck. A bright pink, plush penguin that’s far bigger than it needs to be is what has her attention. The fact _that’s_ what has her eyes so alight makes Alastor second guess all the gifts he’s given her so far. Angel had once said he was overthinking things and now he realizes the lewd mongrel might be right. 

“I need it.” She blurts out like a child. Pointing at the plush in question, she looks up at him, her smile wide as it almost mirrors his own.

“I _need_ him.” Repeating herself, she drags him over to the stand.

“She’s... Pink.” Is the only thing he can think to reply with as he still settles on the confusion in his skull. Moira gently punches his arm to bring him back.

“It’s a stuffed animal and it’s going to be mine and I say he’s a he, Old Man!” 

Paying their way for the game, Alastor scoffs when he’s handed the crappy rifle. It’s nothing like the real thing, not in weight and certainly not in mechanics. After the bored stand attendant explains the rules of the game, Moira shoots him a determined stare.

“I’m gonna kick your ass.” She giggles. Alastor laughs at her in return with a shake of his head.

“So, it’s a deal then?” He teases right back. The phrasing has Moira almost distracted when the game starts, but she hones in and shoots the first target. Looking over to him with a smug expression, she scoffs. Brushing it off, Alastor returns his attention toward the game. The moving target pops up and he aims at it. Firing, he doesn’t account for the lag it so clearly has and misses. He looks to her, dumbfounded.

“Well, you were certainly right about this being rigged!” Paying for another round, Alstor tries to figure out how Moira got the target so well. Still, he’s determined to get what her heart so clearly desires. The big prizes have to be earned through making it through the different rounds. Moira made it through three while Alastor is stuck on one. Players have to make it to at least round 7 to win the prize Moira wants. She won a cotton candy for her efforts. 

Popping it open, she giggles at him as he gets frustrated with the game. He looks over to her briefly while she pops a chunk of the fluffy sugar into her mouth. To him it’s almost foul. Nothing but pure sugar, yet she seems content with herself.

“Give it up, Old Man. I’ve clearly won. And I’ve got the prize to prove it!” She chides around a mouthful of cotton candy. It only goads him to work harder. Slowly but surely he understands how the game is rigged and uses it to his advantage.

The targets begin moving faster, more frantic as he eventually makes his way through the rounds. He had to restart a few times, but Moira doesn’t mind. She watches with amusement while she eats her way through the small bag of cotton candy. It’s hardly a worthwhile prize for making it three rounds in her opinion. But it did prove her point initially.

Casting the now empty bag aside, she feels giddy excitement course through her veins. Alastor had finally got the hang of it and was focusing on the last round he needed for her prize. Everything around her comes to a screeching halt when Alastor fires the last round. They stare in anticipation for the target to be knocked down. When it does, she squeals happily. Dropping the gun in exasperation, Alastor heaves a groan. 

“I never want to do that again.” He mutters as the stand attendant goes to get the plush in question. Moira had let everyone know as they passed by that it was hers and to not bother. She was dead set on it, even if Alastor hadn’t won it properly. She isn’t above stealing the damn thing.

With a bored expression, the attendant hands her the plush and she takes it into her arms happily. Making his way to her side, he’s thrown off kilter when she chucks herself at him. Wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and burying her face into his chest, she giggles muffled thanks. The plush squeezes into his side as she tightens her arms around him with all her strength. Without pulling away, she lifts her head to rest her chin on his chest.

“I love it! Best date ever!” 

The smile on her face brings a rush to him. Her happy chatter over something so ridiculous allows him to _move_ , not think. Cupping her face, he silences her teasing over his fair game skills -or lack thereof- with a firm kiss to her lips. She presses her own back firmly, a smile threatening to tug at the corners. 

When he pulls away, her bottom lip gets tugged into her teeth as she smiles. A soft blush smatters across her cheeks, highlighting her freckles.

“Anything for you, Darling. Even if that is such a wildly silly thing to get excited over. But please don’t make me play anything that ridiculous again.” He mutters in disdain, throwing a glare at the stand in question.

Leaning on her tip toes, she presses a quick kiss to his cheek before offering her arm.

“Hehe, thanks. I’m very content now, would you like to head out of here? There’s no way we were going to get our money’s worth anyway.” 

Leaving the fair to head off to the hotel, Alastor has to get it off his chest. He is still widely confused about it all. While he enjoyed her excitement, the sparkle in her eyes hadn’t been present over any other gift.

Once the sounds of the fair are far in the distance, he decides to speak up so she can hear him better.

“Darling?” He manages as he considers his words carefully. Moira looks up to him with a warm smile.

“Yes, Alastor?” She hums.

“Might I ask you a question? Please pardon me if it comes out rude, that is not my intention.”

“Sure, ask away.”

Her arm nestled into his tightens a fraction while they walk. The soft clack of her heels mingle with his static in a pleasant, white noise type of way.

“I have showered you in quite the lavish gifts as of late. It isn’t that I feel you are ungrateful. However, I hadn’t seen you nearly as excited as you were over that silly toy. Why is that?” 

Squeezing the plush in her other arm, she contemplates as they continue to walk.

“Well, you’re right. I am very thankful for all you’ve done for me. As for the plush,” She looks down at it briefly before kissing the top of its head. “It’s just very cute. Penguins are the cutest thing in the world to me, next to your ears. I think it would be weird and maybe a bit shallow to squeal over the necklace or the dress. They’re lovely, thoughtful, wonderful gifts. I adore them greatly. But maybe I’m just childish and can’t help myself over cute, soft things.” 

Stopping the two of them, she takes his hands to look at him.

“But they’re just things. And while I like things, who they come from and the thought behind them is far more important. The rose made me feel so loved. The chocolates made me feel like you listened to such an offhand comment I made ages ago. Everything you’ve given me has been greatly appreciated.”

Bringing one of her hands to his lips, he kisses each knuckle pointedly.

“I hope they have conveyed my feelings toward you. I’ve always been taught that a lady such as yourself deserves nothing but the best. But perhaps I should’ve just taken you to a toy store instead.” He laughs teasingly. Squeezing his hands, she giggles at that.

“Well, I mean, I’m not opposed! But they have lent me some insight into how you’re feeling for sure. And also perhaps shown me how hard you want to get things right that I think you’ve missed the point completely. I am simple, but you’re trying to speak a language no one has taught you before. Or maybe not in a way that you understood.”

Her words almost feel like ice in his veins. Has he done something wrong? Were the gifts too much or not right at all? Where is the disconnect… He pulls her closer to him, afraid she’s going to disappear if she’s not in his immediate bubble.

“I see your apprehension, please allow me to elaborate.”

“By all means…”

Placing the plush carefully on a discarded box on the sidewalk, she wraps her arms around his waist. Propping her chin on his chest, she looks up at him. Once again, he makes no move to remove her, finding himself enjoying her touch.

“There’s five love languages, Alastor. Gifts are only one of them. I’d assumed we were on the same page until you gave me the dress. That’s when I caught on to what was happening.”

Looking down to her, he hums accordingly. Slipping his arms around her shoulders, he squeezes them tightly.

“To be fair, I can understand your confusion. Especially since my main love language is physical touch, something I am cautious of when with you. I want to respect you and your space as much as possible because I care for you. So I tap into the other one that’s important to me. I love gifts, but it’s actually the lowest on my list.” Nuzzling his chest with her cheek, she takes a moment to enjoy leaning against him. It’s something she’s been craving since she found herself falling for him.

“I see.” He murmurs softly. “I appreciate that very much, my dear Moira.” 

Turning her head back to look up at him, she winks.

“I know. I think my second love language is either yours or your number one”

“Oh, you’ve deciphered me so, hm?”

“How often do you find me late at night in your library, Alastor?”

Looking over her, he focuses on the hotel a few blocks away from them. Mulling it over, he can’t come to a precise number because he never viewed it that way.

“Often is all I can say.”

Lacing her hands in his, she chuckles.

“I try to be in there at least three nights a week, but preferably four, Love. I know your schedule. Most of those nights you make your way around one a.m. I wait for you, Alastor. It’s our favourite place to spend our time with one another.”

Bringing his hand up, she kisses his knuckles in the way he had done just moments before. She watches the way the gears turn in his head before continuing.

“You definitely like words of affirmation, but we connect on our quality time together. Whether we read together or I draw, being in each other’s presence is what’s brought us to where we are now.”

As the words click in his brain, a soft ‘oh’ falls from his lips. His favourite memories of her definitely pertain to how often they spend time with one another in that singular room of the hotel.

“I never… thought about that.” He says quietly, returning his gaze to her. How interesting for him to be schooled on his own feelings by the object of his affection. Never has he considered her dumb, but it elates him to learn how smart she is. Especially in an aspect so foreign to him. It’s easy to be with her. She’s so attentive to his needs and respectful of the things he dislikes.

“I never expected you to, you’re hilariously dense sometimes. I love that about you.” Pressing a kiss to his chest, she hums softly.

“And sometimes I provide acts of service to you. I love taking care of you, you’re not as good at it as you think. It’s why I always bring you a bowl or a plate. You’re much the same way. I feel even you truly believe a good way to bond is over food. Your mother taught you that.”

“She did. You remind me of her sometimes.”

“I know.”

Pulling away from the embrace, she grabs the plush and takes his hand. The pair heads off toward the hotel once more. Alastor finds himself dreading the arrival to his new residence. This is what it feels like to never want an experience to end.

“I show you how I care for you in a lot of ways. Perhaps I’m bad at expressing my appreciation of a gift, but I try to show you in many other ways how I feel. I think you are much the same, except subconsciously. When you felt like properly showing me, conveying to me your affections, you felt gifts were in order. And while I love everything, you already made yourself clear to me a long time ago. You always find me.”

Squeezing her hand and thinking on her words, he stops her the second they reach the top step of the building. Facing one another, he cups her face.

“I am quite fond of you, Moira. You always find a way to both surprise and entertain me.” His thumbs stroke her cheeks in tandem while he takes in her features. He wants this memory burned into his brain forever.

“I’m quite fond of you too…” Flashing him a wink and a cheeky smile, she continues. “Old Man.” 

Alastor shakes his head like he’s done a million times this evening. Her teasing nature always making him aflutter inside. Despite how much he initially hated the nickname, he learned it is a term of endearment from her. Certainly no one else could call him such a thing.

Closing the gap between them, he leans down to capture her lips again. A warm, foreign feeling fills his chest as their lips mold together smoothly. He savors the softness of them, the way her breath hitches slightly, and how she returns the action with fervor. His arms slip around her frame to bring her closer, deepening the kiss. She wraps her arms around him in return. They stay frozen for another moment, their lips no longer moving, just enjoying the feel of one another as they embrace.

Breaking away, she makes no move to wipe the smudge of lipstick that had transferred to his face. A silent little thing that lets everyone know of her presence. There will be time in the future to ruin all the collars of his shirts later. 

Opening the door for her, he allows her to enter first. She hugs the plush tightly before looking over her shoulder at him. 

“Well, I’m pretty tired. Catch you in the library later?” Blowing him a kiss, she takes her leave to her quarters. Alastor quietly closes the door behind him, his smile far more soft than he realizes. 

Angel pipes up from his spot at the bar when he notes Moira’s lipstick on Alastor’s lips. He chuckles a bit before leaning back and grabbing the man’s attention.

“Hey Smiles.” He calls to him. Alastor genuinely regards him for the moment, taking a seat next to him.

“Hello there, Angel. Husk. Might I get a shot of whiskey?”

Husk grunts but obliges, silently curious about it all. He too notes Moira’s lipstick on his mouth, but says nothing. Angel swivels in his chair to face him.

“Ya done ova thinkin’ it?” He snickers quietly, sharing a silent conversation with Husk out of the corner of his eye. Alastor slugs back that shot before righting himself.

“Yes. I do believe I am.”

**Author's Note:**

> A FUN, SPECIAL EDIT BECAUSE I _NEED_ TO SHARE IT! The sweetest Palioom (here and on twitter) drew a piece for this fic!!!! So Imma post it here! Go follow her, she does AMAZING art!  
> 


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